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Wednesday, June 8, 2016

“Defeat,” a poem

“Defeat”

Signing forms, initialing, dating
Don’t smile for the camera
Strip.
I’m not a criminal, I mumble, defeated
They say it again:
Strip.
Shredding off dignity,
Not making eye contact
See? I told you no track marks.
Gritting my teeth when asked about identifying marks
I don’t mention the birthmark
on the cheek of my butt
Haven’t I been violated enough already?
They snap pictures of all the scars
The scars are all over,
more than a hundred in varying stages of healing
They seem to photograph me forever,
though I’m still not sure why
They were cold
Not rude, but not nice either
They look at me strangely,
as if they’d never seen scars before
“Why did you do this?” her accusing eyes demand
The cat just scratched me, I’ve claimed in the past
My dog jumped on me,
leaving cuts of course.
I’ve used that one, too.
Once I said a horse attacked me.
Another time that I was the survivor or a horrific car accident
But here, there’s no reason to lie,
they know where the scars came from
I felt like I was being arrested.
I’m pretty sure I was also fingerprinted that night
but at a certain point things get fuzzy
Next, the unit
Patients with a glazed over expression sit in the lounge
Further down the hall I hear screaming,
which I try my best to ignore
The doors automatically slam shut,
locking behind me
I’m alone now,
with only the clothes on my back
My suitcase, my earrings, and even my watch have been seized
I’m so scared I’m shaky
Nauseous, but I don’t throw up
I’m scared to sleep,
sleep is vulnerability
I’m scared to stay awake,
continuing this mad descent into hell
My pillow is flat and hard,
my mattress is two inches thick
For the millionth time,
I’m frozen in indecision
What do I do?
What do I do now?
Hopeless, I exist.



2 comments:

  1. How u ve been feeling since then?? Is it related to a mental ward in at"ing," hope u re feeling better if I do or did believe it was real..though .thank you but take care

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you for your comment. Yes, the poem is about going inpatient in a psychiatric hospital in June 2004. I'm in the eighth month of a depressive episode currently, so things aren't that great. You take care, too.

      Delete

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